


Even the best gotta lose

by wingstocarryon (wings_of_crows)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Deathfic with some hope, Gen, Legends, Poetry, that's what they are
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-23
Updated: 2019-03-23
Packaged: 2019-11-28 07:55:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18205661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wings_of_crows/pseuds/wingstocarryon
Summary: On March 22nd, 2019, it was announced Supernatural would end after 15 years.This fandom has brought me through more than I can say. Thank you for loving me, friends, thank for you all the writing and art. I love you back.Thanks Sam and Dean, for protecting us all. I know you always will. Nothing can stop that. Not death itself.I know we're not going anywhere, but it's one hell of a sad day.





	Even the best gotta lose

**Author's Note:**

> On March 22nd, 2019, it was announced Supernatural would end after 15 years. 
> 
> This fandom has brought me through more than I can say. Thank you for loving me, friends, thank for you all the writing and art. I love you back. 
> 
> Thanks Sam and Dean, for protecting us all. I know you always will. Nothing can stop that. Not death itself.
> 
> I know we're not going anywhere, but it's one hell of a sad day.

**Even the best gotta lose**

A hail of bullets, a bright light, two men running  
running out to meet it.  
They say it was a hell of a fight  
They say it was betrayal  
They say even the best gotta lose  
They drink to that still.

There was evil laid to rest that night  
It went down hard, it went down bloody,  
But bloody it went.  
Then Sam, the younger brother,  
felt the blade in his gut, the spilling blood.  
Dean running to catch him,  
catching him as he falls.

A clasped hand, a mingled smile. And then,  
then, both seeing the blade in Dean’s heart, Oh Sammy.  
Oh Dean  
The world is fading and it’s been a good ride  
Shall we go now Sammy  
Let’s go

Sammy are you here  
I’m here with you, Dean.

They went as one, they say.  
And after, an angel holding both their broken bodies, years falling in on him  
as he gathers them to him, cried for the mortal life they showed him.  
As the bright light streams from him  
they rise

A grave with two simple wooden crosses. A place worn clean,  
no demon dares to walk there.  
The weather beating on wood  
wears names to smooth shapes, bone white and silken.  
A car gone rust hulled, some say, covered in blood red flowers.  
Some say a wreck some lonesome highway, some say  
just disappeared.

They say even the best gotta lose.

But somewhere, somehow, an engine sparks  
turns over  
roars

A shared grin flashes as Dean grips the wheel. A squeal of tires,  
a beat of blacktop…  
roar of music in the night.

And somewhere where the ghosts walk grim,  
where there’s blood in the night and an innocent slain,  
they say there’ll be a knock at the door,  
two lads one with a wicked grin and one  
sweet and tall  
saying ma’am we’re here to save your soul

and that’s when the dark things howl in fear.


End file.
